


Partners

by magelette



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Gen, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:33:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magelette/pseuds/magelette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirrim had been fighting all her life. Path was the one who gave her a reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Edonohana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edonohana/gifts).



_Four finger formation!_

Mirrim automatically laid low against Path's neck as Path picked up the outer right wing position as their wing broke into three lopsided vees. At the wingsecond's command, her formation flew above the other two flights to flame a large clump of Thread falling toward them.

 _Firestone!_

She reached into her sack and tossed the required firestone into Path's waiting jaw. The maneuver was so well-practiced that Mirrim thought they could even do it while _between_ \-- not that she ever wanted to try.

 _Wheel and turn or bleed and burn..._ Path's voice chanted in her head as they dove in formation, catching another clump of Thread before it hit Flight Two from above. T'gellan, riding at the head of Flight Two, grinned at her.

 _Fly between, blue and green,_ Mirrim sang back in her mind as the cold and dark of _between_ hit her.

The blast of heat that met her when they came out of _between_ shocked her back into the present. Dragonriders didn't let their minds wander during Threadfall. The only time for mental meandering was back at the Weyr, oiling Path or helping out in the kitchens.

 _Echelon right!_

Path immediately took up her place between blue Hideth and green Imath in the four-dragon diagonal.

 _Soar, dive down_ the old Teaching Ballad echoed in Mirrim's head as they again dove, all four in tandem, to dodge a clump of Thread. Path reared back to flame a particularly nasty clump in front of her and Mirrim tightened her grip on her fighting straps. This was why she checked her straps every night, for all that the other members of her wing laughed at her.

 _Firestone!_

 _Already, love?_ Not that Path would ever be inefficient with firestone. Even Lessa admitted how good a team she and Path were. Mirrim knew that Lessa, as Weyrwoman, still wasn't entirely sure how to deal with her, for all that she'd tried to make Mirrim's time in the weyrling barracks as painless as possible. They'd all been ordered -- Lower Cavern folk and dragonriders alike -- to treat her just as any other weyrling. And it had helped, for all that she'd had to steel herself to sharing the bath with five other adolescent males.

 _Monarth says this is the last wave._

Mirrim couldn't help sigh in relief. How many hours had they been flying Threadfall now? Threadfall itself flew by almost as fast as _between_ , but Mirrim knew she'd be feeling it the moment her feet touched the ground again. _Any Threadscore, love?_

 _Not this time,_ Path all but preened.

Her dragon wasn't the fastest or most agile green in the Weyr, but Mirrim took pride in the fact that she and Path practiced their drills with the same relentless energy and dedication that she'd given everything in life. Her father was a competent blue rider, but Mirrim wanted to be more than that. She didn't have to be Weyrwoman's pet, the way she'd tried to be when she was a youngling, but if her duty was to protect Pern from Thread, she wanted to do her best at it. She wanted to make the Weyr proud of her: Mirrim, rider of green Path. She wanted her foster mother Brekke to be able to say that Mirrim was living up to everything that a dragonrider of Pern should be.

Path landed lightly, and Mirrim could already see the weyrfolk spilling out of the Lower Caverns, numbweed at the ready for any Threadscored. She wasn't too surprised to see Menolly's bright head amongst the weyrfolk. There were times when she felt like Menolly, for all that she spent most of her time at Harper Hall or wandering Pern, was her only friend. The rest of the weyrfolk hadn't exactly shunned her when she impressed Path, but a lot of the older folk hadn't exactly taken to kindly to the idea of a female greenrider. She still heard whispers every now and then about how T'gellan favored her and how she was trying to sleep her way to wingsecond.

"How went the flight?" Menolly asked, taking Mirrim's helmet from her. "Threadscore?"

Mirrim grinned at Menolly. "Not my Path. She's one of the best greens on Pern." The last weyr games had proved that much, at least, when Path had flown circles and figure-eights and loops around some of the stodgier greens. "Not that I'm complaining, but what brings you to Benden?"

Menolly grinned back. "I caught a ride with a friend. Master Robinton wanted me to deliver a message to the Weyrleaders." She scratched Path's neck. "I suppose you're hungry, aren't you, lovely?"

 _Tell Menolly to keep scratching there. The herdbeasts will wait. My itch won't._

Mirrim relayed the message with a laugh.

Life before Path, though it had been full of people who loved her, had been lonely. Mirrim wouldn't have thought it possible to be lonely in a Weyr, be it Benden or Southern, but it was. Even when Brekke had fostered her all those years ago, Mirrim had felt shuttled from one place to the next. As a junior queenrider, Brekke had little enough time to actually raise a fosterling, so most of Mirrim's adolescence had been spent at Brekke's heels, tending to tasks in the Lower Cavern or the kitchens, and assisting the healers after Threadfall. She could barely remember an idle moment in her childhood. There had always been something to do.

And yet, the moment she'd first looked into Path's eyes... Mirrim knew the realities of dragon mating flights. A dragon's first flight was exhilarating, but if the greenrider hadn't lain with anyone before, it was liable to be painful, especially if the greenrider wasn't prepared enough. She'd seen plenty of pleased looks after flights on both male and female faces, and while green dragons at least had a little more choice of partner -- their clutches would never come to fruition, so a long mating flight wasn't needed to weed out the competition -- the complete immersion into that much passion was a frightening thought. Mirrim had always hated relinquishing control of anything, and the very thought of dragon-induced passion had repulsed her for the longest time. And yet...

And yet, when she first looked into Path's eyes and found that soulmate, that half that she hadn't known she was missing, that one that completed every part of her... She wondered if it mattered. Her fire lizards were great company and had helped point out a little of the void in her life, but Path had really shown her how lonely she was. How isolated. It didn't matter who shared her bed now, or whose watch she came under. Mirrim had the only lifemate that she needed, one who understood her and loved her completely.

"Talking to your lady love there?" Menolly asked, jarring Mirrim out of her reverie.

"Just thinking," Mirrim replied with a laugh.

Menolly bumped Mirrim's shoulder with her own as they disassembled Mirrim's flying straps. "I thought you were too busy to think when you were fighting Thread."

Mirrim still felt like life was a battle, sometimes. One that she was fighting every day, and with every step. But it wasn't the other Weyrfolk who were her enemy, it was the Thread. And she had the best possible ally at her back: her very own dragon. No one would defeat Mirrim, Path's rider. Nothing would get her down, as long as she had Path to remind her of how much she mattered.


End file.
